


Changing My Major

by lookninjas



Series: Children's Work [23]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:25:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookninjas/pseuds/lookninjas
Summary: The morning after the first time.





	Changing My Major

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have a few different fluffy Ben/Poe stories that I chip at when I'm having a bad day. Seldnei mentioned needing one after the last fic I posted (yeah, I'm that creeper who reads your tags), so I actually finished one up. There's also a mini-playlist for the songs mentioned in the story (and a couple that weren't, but it seemed ridiculous to keep it so short) [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5ndU5y7gh4&index=1&list=PLHbZFftXoT9tVR3cQs55125QMvZfkaRGs).
> 
> Full disclosure -- I did not actually research what the public radio schedules in Ann Arbor are like; I just based it off my local station. Sorry.
> 
> ETA: This takes place the morning after [Begin](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8529595), if you want to see that part of the story!

First thing to cut through is the alarm, a shrieking of atonal saxophones, and he wrestles his left arm out from underneath the blankets to slap it back into silence. Fucking early morning jazz. He’s used to the news now, when he uses the alarm at all, which he doesn’t always. Or he sets it, but then he’s up before it goes off and forgets about it until he’s doing his stretches and then suddenly there’s people talking, which shouldn’t startle him but always does, until he remember and breaks position to turn it off. But he doesn’t need his alarm much anymore, really, and not early enough for jazz, unless they changed the schedule, which seems strange, but --

Poe shifts against him, stirring, and Ben pulls his arm back in, pulls Poe in close and lets go of everything else. It’s not important, anyway. It’s not as important as this. Poe lets out a sleepy humming sound and subsides, his hands flattening against Ben’s bare skin -- one pressed to his sternum, one loose on his back -- and it’s so good. Not like last night, which was all spark and shock and surprise, but in a quiet way, in a warm way.

Poe’s hair is soft under Ben’s chin, and Ben’s not sure what it smells like, but he knows he likes it. He likes Poe, tucked up against him solid and warm, one leg between his, and it’s actually kind of funny, now he thinks about it, how it already feels so normal. Like this is just what they always were, intertwined like this, they just -- weren’t, before. Something -- there’s a musical, one of Rey’s friends is into musicals now so they watched it, people being attached to each other, and…

 _Make of our hands one hand_ , which is absolutely not the right song. It’s a shame it’s so early, there’s a musical theatre show he likes to listen to, when he can catch it, but that’s on at like four in the afternoon and not four in the morning, which is jazz, and why is his alarm going off at --

Oh.

Oh, _hell_.

“Poe,” he says, because while the second-to-last thing he wants to do is let go when Poe is so soft and warm and perfect in his bed, Poe is the one who set the alarm, because that’s when he needs to be up to get ready for work, and the absolute last thing in the world Ben wants to do right now is make Poe late for work. Seriously, Poe would never forgive him. Ben probably wouldn’t forgive himself. “ _Poe._ ”

Poe pushes back a little, untucks his face from Ben’s neck and tilts it up. “Mnuh?” 

“It’s 4:30.” Technically, it’s 4:28, because the clock says 4:34 but the clock is also six minutes fast, but there’s no point in getting into all of that now. “We have to get up.”

“Mmm.” Poe huffs out a breath, goes quiet for almost too long -- Ben is about to call his name again when Poe finally stirs and asks him, “Long’s the snooze?”

Maybe Poe really is still asleep. Or Ben’s too tired for words to make sense, although he feels pretty damn awake now. “What?” 

“The snooze,” Poe repeats “How long?”

“Oh. Um. Seven minutes, I think.” Ben doesn’t actually use the snooze that much, and never has. But he has a vague memory of it being sort of an odd amount of time. Also, the clock says 4:35 now, so it can’t be five minutes, and he’s fairly certain it isn’t ten; that would be absurd. “Pretty sure.”

Poe grumbles again, mutters to himself, puffing warm air against Ben’s chin. His hand starts wandering against Ben’s back, drumming his fingers like he’s trying to count against Ben’s skin. Finally, he announces, “Two more times.” Another pause, like he’s thinking, and then, “Wait. You making breakfast?”

Ben thinks he might be offended if Poe hadn’t begun absently tracing the knobs of his spine, making him shiver at the touch. “Of course I’m making breakfast,” he says. 

“‘Kay,” Poe says, and his hand slips down to the small of Ben’s back, and Ben’s breath catches at the feel of it, at the things it reminds him of. Poe’d let his hand rest there for a while last night, once they’d gotten off the living room floor and made their way to the bedroom, and it didn’t feel like much at first but then Poe started _talking_ , different things they could do, that Poe wanted to do, to try, with Ben, and --

“Two more times,” Poe says, and tucks his face back into Ben’s neck, and the alarm goes off again -- drums this time, and Ben slaps them away too. 

Poe hardly twitches. “ _One_ more time,” he says, and when Ben’s arm wraps around him again, he sighs and snuggles in. “After this. This time, and then one more time.”

“Sounds good to me.” He buries his face in Poe’s hair again; he still isn’t sure what it smells like, but he knows he really likes it. He likes being curled up like this with Poe. He likes Poe, period, and that’s --

It really is funny, though, how you can be in the midst of a miracle and it just seems so normal.

Then the hand on Ben’s back starts gently stroking again, and Ben jolts back into his body, that sharp feeling Poe’s touch gives him, everything electric. Poe’s lips graze his neck, not even kisses, but brushes. “You’re dangerous,” Poe murmurs, and Ben thinks he knows who the dangerous person is here, and he’s pretty sure it isn’t him. 

“Am I?” he asks, a little breathless, and he could swear he feels Poe smiling against his skin.

“Hmmm.” Poe presses one deliberate kiss right on Ben’s pulse point, then slips down, bends in, his hand sliding across Ben’s chest so he can press his lips to the notch in Ben’s collarbone. His stubble prickles as he moves; it’s weird, and sharp in that bright electric way, and Ben wants so much more of it. “Very dangerous. I could stay here all day.”

“I wish,” Ben murmurs, letting his fingers tangle in Poe’s soft hair, and Poe smiles again, scuffs his cheeks against Ben’s chest and it shouldn’t feel so good but it really kind of does. Especially when the hand against Ben’s back shifts just a little lower, just grazing the waistband of his briefs before Poe relents and hauls himself back and up, his face finally level with Ben’s on the pillow.

He rubs the tip of his nose against Ben’s, nuzzles in to kiss him just once, softly, lips still closed. “Tell you what,” he says. “Let me come over again. Tonight. I’ll pick up whatever you want for dinner. I don’t care. Thai or Ethiopian or -- whatever. Anything you want. I just really need to do all this again. As soon as possible.”

“Poe,” Ben says, blinking, and shoves in for a kiss of his own, a little clumsier, a little rougher, needier. Poe’s fingers slide into his hair, hold him close for several long moments, so he guesses he’s still mostly doing okay. “Bring whatever the hell you want. Don’t bring anything at all. I have food. Just… come over. Or I’ll go there. Whichever. It doesn’t matter. I just -- I want this too. Again. Tonight. Absolutely.”

Poe runs his fingers through Ben’s hair. He studies him for a long moment. Then he grins and says, “Oh. Okay. Good,” and drags Ben back in for more kisses. 

By the time the alarm goes off again (piano, something melodic for a change), Ben is half on top of Poe, holding on to his shoulders for dear life as Poe does something to his tongue that Ben can’t explain or understand but it’s fucking amazing. They both flail desperately at the alarm clock until it finally falls silent -- Ben’s not even sure who hit the fatal blow. 

He pulls back just to catch his breath, rests his head on Poe’s chest. Poe sighs and goes back to stroking his hair. 

“Dangerous,” he says again, softly. “This is the last one, isn’t it?”

It sounds more melancholy than it ought to, more than Ben would like, anyway. “The last one for today,” he says, and kisses the nearest patch of skin. Poe shivers beneath him and Ben feels a small pride in that. He made Poe shiver. “There’ll be more, Poe.”

“I know,” Poe says, but the melancholy’s still there. “Just -- Sorry. Getting ahead of myself. I’m not actually that great at living in the moment. I should work on that. Hey, you think Rey would mind a whole lot if I just moved in? Commute’ll suck, but --”

Ben pushes himself up, moves to hover over Poe, trying to get enough distance to read Poe’s expression. In the darkness, Poe’s face isn’t much more than a mass of shadows. “If you really want me to talk to her,” he says, and Poe laughs, reaches up to cup his cheek in one hand.

“Maybe later,” he says. “No, it’s -- It’s okay, really. Get back down here. Back --” He threads his fingers through Ben’s hair and Ben lets himself sink back down, head on Poe’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. It’s a little quick. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s. Better. Sorry, I’m just…”

“I’m here,” Ben murmurs, and tucks his hands under Poe’s shoulders, and wishes he knew how to calm him down. “Right here. And I’ll be here when you come back.”

 _People leave_. Poe said something about that, once, a long time ago. When they were kids. _They leave and they don’t come back_. 

Ben left. He came back, though.

“I know,” Poe says, chest rising and falling underneath Ben’s, and Ben breathes slower, tries to give Poe something to sync up with. “I really am buying you dinner tonight. We can go out, if you want. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but if you wanted, we could --”

“Just come over,” Ben tells him, and shifts up a little to nuzzle into his neck. “Bring whatever sounds good. I don’t care. I just want you.”

Poe takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. He dips his head down to kiss Ben’s forehead. “I want you, too,” he whispers. “We’ll make this work, right?”

It doesn’t even seem like it should be a question. “Of course we will,” Ben says. He came back and Poe was there; Poe helped him to face Snoke again and they won, together. And then Poe was still there. And now he and Poe are here. It doesn’t seem like there’s anything they can’t do. “Of course.”

“Okay,” Poe says, and softens a little, the tension leaving him. “Okay. Good.”

He presses his lips to Ben’s forehead again. Ben closes his eyes, lets himself be held. He’s not sure how much time they have left before the alarm goes off again, but he’s content to spend it just like this, draped over Poe like a blanket, his face in Poe’s neck and Poe’s arms holding him close.

 _Origin of Love_. That’s the song. _The Origin of Love_. Now that he thinks about it, it’s not a very happy song. He’ll have to find something better.

But that can wait for now.

He sinks into Poe, and lets the world slide away for a few minutes more.


End file.
